


Risk and Reward

by Hatterized



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Brief smut-related plot if that's even a thing, Dom!Negan, M/M, Negan loves it, Rick is a little shit of a sub, Spanking, Sub!Rick, dom/sub elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 08:29:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10613103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatterized/pseuds/Hatterized
Summary: That day, they’d come away with three things: a deep knowledge of each other’s wants in bed, an understanding that Rick’s submission was mutually desired but hard-earned, and a safeword.One-Shot: Rick is a feisty sub and Negan gets a kick out of it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a couple tumblr asks that were interested in a bratty/feisty Sub!Rick to Negan's dom.

Looking at Rick Grimes, you wouldn’t think he would be this difficult. Negan certainly hadn’t.

In fact, the first time they’d met- a total meet-cute over a confused drink order at Negan’s favorite coffee shop- one of Negan’s first thoughts had been, “I bet I could make him beg for it.”

There was something about Rick Grimes that came across as deceptively soft to Negan. Maybe it was the sweet-as-syrup southern drawl, or the way his overlong, curly hair would get mussed when he ran his fingers through it and tumble forward into the palest blue eyes Negan had ever seen. Maybe it was the tidy button-up shirts he always wore that fit his lithe frame _just right_ , of that fact that Negan had at least a good four inches on him.

Regardless of the reason, it hadn’t taken Negan long to learn that Rick Grimes was far from soft. And while Negan absolutely _could_ make him beg for it, that particular victory over him was always hard-won.

Negan had never considered himself a particularly patient person, especially when it came to sex. Sure, he enjoyed some teasing- by him, of course. God help any partner of his that tried out _that_ shit on him. And he’d never so much as fathom pressuring an unsure partner into bedding him before they were ready. But he was usually a man that attracted people that somehow just _knew_ what they were getting into with him. Maybe it was the daily donning of his favored leather jacket, maybe it was just because he exuded that confidant bravado of _I am the big motherfucker in control_ , but by the time he fell into bed with someone, they always seemed to fall right under him, no questions asked. When he asked them to beg, they begged, and when he asked them if they wanted it, they’d give him desperate, pleading nods. And if, for whatever reason, the person under Negan wasn’t into his particular brand of kinkiness, he would back off, but he would remain top dog.

Rick Grimes, however…he was a complicated case. The first few times they’d gotten naked together, Negan hadn’t suspected anything. Rick had laid out for him on his back or bent over the side of the bed or dropped down to his hands and knees, open and willing. And he’d loved it, too. Negan’d had him writhing into sweat-soaked cotton sheets, whimpering around babbled curses and breathless sighs of Negan’s name.

And when Negan had told him to say his name, to scream it, he’d obeyed. But he’d done it with this look, like the cogs in his brain were turning, like Negan was a jigsaw puzzle and Rick had just found the piece that made it all fit together.

So the next time, when Negan had Rick pinned and squirming and stretched wide around his cock and he commanded that Rick beg him for it, he’d had every reason to expect that Rick would respond by pleading _so sweetly_ for him, desperate for Negan to make good on every promise he’d made minutes earlier to fuck him deep as he could.

He hadn’t been prepared for _Rick fucking Grimes_ to shoot him a defiant, icy glare and smirk around a _“Make me, baby.”_

Negan hadn’t known how to respond to that. He thought Rick was teasing him, so he gave him a slow smile and chided, _“Oh, honey, don’t you know I’m the one callin’ the shots?”_

Rick’s chin had jutted out, plush lower lip curling and making Negan want to nip it until it bled. A pretty little portrait of brazen disobedience, even with an ass full of dick. If Negan hadn’t been so damn frustrated, he would have wanted a photo.

“What makes you think that?” Rick had asked.

“Who’s the one that’s had you bent over for the past month?” Negan had volleyed back.

“You think ‘cause I’m the one takin’ it that you can snap your fingers and make me beg?”

“Baby, I think I can do a whole fucking _lot_ of things with my fingers that would make you beg.”

He’d thought it was playful flirting. Some light repartee before they got down to the part where Rick would bounce on his cock like it was a damn pogo stick. Little had he known, he had issued a challenge.

A challenge that both of them had a lot of fun trying to come out of victorious.

In the end, Negan did make him beg. He’d won that sweet, whimpered, _“Please, Negan,”_ after nearly an hour of what could only be called _relentless_ exploration of Rick’s body, and he’d worn that victory like a goddamn Olympic Gold. That day, they’d come away with three things: a deep knowledge of each other’s wants in bed, an understanding that Rick’s submission was mutually desired but hard-earned, and a safeword.

And that was that. Rick liked being under Negan, liked begging and pleading and getting fucked that much harder for it, but he also liked to make his partner _earn_ it.

So Negan learned to be patient. Learned what Rick liked and what he didn’t so that he never had to hear the word “Python” uttered from those pretty pink lips, making everything come to a screeching halt. He got good at it, too. He was a quick study, he found, if the subject at hand was _How To Make Rick Grimes Come All Over Himself 101_.

And, if he could swallow his pride enough to admit it to himself, Negan was pretty damn certain that he liked it when Rick made him work for it. There was a certain thrill that ran down his spine when he bit out a command at Rick and was met with a “Fuck you” or a “Make me” or a trademark icy blue glare in return.

Because, really, punishing Rick for his feisty streak was very nearly as fun as fucking him outright.

Which was why, then they had days like today, Negan didn’t really mind.

It was one of those rare weekends that they had completely to themselves. Judith was spending a few days with Rick’s parents, and Carl was on spring break, off on a group camping trip with his friends Ben and Sophia. Rick had initially been reluctant to agree to that, but after some gentle prodding from Carl- _“Please, dad, c’mon, we’ll be two hours away, you love Ben and Sophia, you know we’re responsible, I’m seventeen, most of the people in my class are going to Panama Beach…”-_ and a flirtatious reminder from Negan- _“Please, Rick, c’mon, let the kid have a little fun, they’ll be fine, and besides, with Carl gone, we have the whole house to ourselves to be as loud as we want…”_ \- Rick had agreed.

So that was how they ended up where they were now, with Negan’s hands covering Rick’s hips as the smaller man washed dishes. Negan had learned early on in their relationship that Rick was something of a clean freak. He wasn’t one to impose it on other people’s homes, thankfully, or else he would have driven Negan straight up the wall the first time he’d set foot inside Negan’s decidedly untidy bachelor pad. That was where they’d hooked up the first few times, Rick not wanting to upset his children’s delicate sensibilities with the sounds of Negan fucking him into the mattress. But a few weeks in, when Carl had started asking questions about where Rick was actually going when he made lame excuses like “grocery shopping” when he made off to Negan’s for a couple hours, Rick had brought him around to the house. And it was there, while Negan was still basking in the afterglow of a nice, rough romp between the sheets with Rick that Rick decided it was time to strip said sheets off the bed and do a load of laundry.

Negan was quietly convinced that Rick’s ill-timed urges to clean things were a subtle strategy in the game the two of them played. A strange method of orgasm denial. Or, in the case of the sheets, post-orgasmic-cuddle denial.

This evening was a prime example. Right now, Rick was insisting on doing the dishes before anything else. Normally, this wasn’t something Negan would have minded, but considering the fact that Rick, halfway through dinner, had crawled into his lap and proceeded to eat the rest of his chicken teriyaki with his ass pressing against Negan’s crotch, he definitely minded tonight. Negan knew Rick could feel him getting hard. He’d practically inhaled the rest of his food in a manic effort to get to the portion of the evening where he had Rick shoved ass-up over the side of their bed. But no, as soon as they’d finished, Rick had skedaddled right on over to the sink, ignoring Negan’s frustrated growl.

Well, two could play at that game.

“Baby,” Negan purred into Rick’s ear, “No offence, but you need to hurry the fuck up. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to wash those dishes as slow as you possibly fucking can.”

“You want somethin’, Negan?” Rick asked, his voice a little too casual. Like Negan was right, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Well, Negan wasn’t going to be having any of _that_.

He very nearly spun Rick around and threw him right over his shoulder. The temptation to carry him into their room and throw him bodily onto the bed was almost overwhelming, but he pushed the thought back. He’d be playing right into Rick’s hands if he did that, letting him know just how wound up he was.

No. No, he had a better idea.

Negan pressed a soft kiss to the nape of Rick’s neck just above the collar of his shirt, delighting in the little shiver it pulled out of the smaller man. He mouthed at the sensitive skin there as his hands slid around Rick’s front, rucking up the bottom of his shirt so that his fingertips could brush skin. Rick squirmed almost imperceptibly back against him before he caught himself and returned to rinsing plates.

“C’mon, Negan. Can’t you wait just a few minutes?” Negan heard the taunting undertone to his words: _You can’t wait for me, can you, Negan?_

Negan chuckled against Rick’s neck. “I’m just trying to be sweet, baby. Don’t you like it?” He affected his voice with an insincere hurt that Rick didn’t buy for a second.

“I know exactly what you’re doin’, Negan- _shit!_ ” Rick yelped as Negan’s hand dropped south to cup his groin, his hands jerking and water splashing down his front. Negan hummed, amused, as he kneaded the growing bulge in the front of Rick’s jeans.

“Aw, sweetheart, is this for me? See, I knew you fucking liked it.” He felt Rick let out a shaky exhale against him, and he abandoned his teasing to start working open the buttons of Rick’s damp shirt. “May as well take this off of you, right? Wet clothes can’t be fucking comfortable.” He tossed the shirt onto the counter and pressed himself closer to Rick, suddenly hating the thin layer of fabric separating him from Rick’s bare skin. He stripped off his own shirt and tossed it aside before wrapping his arms around Rick’s torso and pulling the smaller man’s back flush against his chest. One hand teased Rick’s nipples, pinching and twisting just enough to elicit soft, breathy noises out of him.

“You were being a real fucking tease during dinner, Rick. Sitting in my lap, rocking against me like that…” He pinched hard, and was rewarded with a surprised yelp. “And then you act like you don’t want it? When I know your dick is just aching for it under your jeans? That shit is not fucking cool, Rick.”

Rick, in spite of the fingers tweaking his nipples, managed to throw a sassy look over his shoulder, as if daring Negan to keep going. “Not like you’re hard to get riled up, Negan. I could’ve played footsie with you under the table and you’d still be hard for me.”

At that, Negan growled and raked his nails down Rick’s chest hard enough to leave pink trails in their wake. He threaded one hand though the tousled curls at the nape of Rick’s neck and tugged him sideways, shoving him forward until his hips met the wood of the kitchen table. His hands found Rick’s waist again, impatiently undoing his belt and shoving his pants and boxers down his legs.

Negan was able to enjoy the sight of Rick naked and bent over the table for him for a moment, before Rick’s voice rang out.

“You want me, Negan?”

_Insufferable little shit._

Negan hissed out an irritated breath between his teeth and palmed Rick’s ass greedily. “You know what, Rick? I’m not fucking sure if I do. You’re got a smart fucking mouth on you right now, and I don’t think I like it very much. In fact, I don’t think I want to hear your voice again unless you’re saying my name. Can you do that for me, Rick?”

Silence. Negan’s jaw tightened and his fingers dug into the supple flesh in his hand.

“Say my name, Rick.”

“Fuck you.”

Negan smirked and cracked a hand against Rick’s ass, the sweet sound of Rick inhaling sharply though his teeth greeting his ears. He repeated the action, a little harder this time, and Rick’s head dropped down between his tense shoulders, knocking against the table. Negan smoothed one hand over the abused flesh, relishing the instinctual flinch from Rick when he did so. “What’s my name, Rick?”

“Asshole.” Rick gritted out.

Negan’s hand met flesh again. “You know, Rick, you’re being a real pain in my ass today. So I think I’ll repay. The. Favor.” He punctuated each of the words with a slap, and on the last one, he heard it. It was barely more than a whine, but there it was.

_“N-Negan…”_

Negan grinned, momentarily sated. He groped for the small bottle he’d stashed in his back pocket before he’d started dinner. Yeah, okay, it was a bit of a preemptive call, he would admit, but he’d been thinking about taking Rick bent over the table since that morning. It wasn’t long before he had three slick fingers buried deep inside Rick, curling and scissoring and stroking. He worked him until he saw the way Rick’s thighs were straining, his fingers clenching and unclenching rhythmically against the tabletop, tying to hold back.

"Rick, baby. You holding out on me? You know I want to hear you whimpering out those sweet little sounds you make when I'm working you _just fucking right_."

Rick's lips remained clamped tight. Negan was sure that if he was to reach forward and turn Rick's face toward himself, he'd see the other man's teeth bearing down on his lower lip to hold back the noises that were caught in his throat.

Negan’s fingers withdrew and his hand slid up from Rick’s ass to rest between his shoulder blades, and then he was pushing Rick down, his chest and cheek smacking the wood of the table, just hard enough to leave him with a few moments of dull, lingering pain. He pressed in close behind Rick, grinding his clothed erection against Rick’s bare ass, making the man under him shudder at the friction. His lips teased the sensitive shell of Rick’s ear for a moment before his teeth grazed the lobe, tugging at it and earning him a sharp inhale from the smaller man.

“Stay,” Negan growled, low and sultry. He rose up so that he was no longer pinning Rick with his weight, hands moving to undo his own belt, and immediately Rick was pushing himself up on his elbows and throwing a defiant smirk at Negan from over his shoulder.

_Oh, you little shit. You’re gonna pay for that._

Negan shot forward, one hand curling around the back of Rick’s neck and forcing him back down, the other grasping Rick’s hip roughly, hoping it left bruises. One of his favorite sights in the world was Rick, the morning after a particularly rough fuck, crawling naked out of their bed, dark bruises in the shape of Negan’s fingertips wrapped around his slim hips. Seeing them always made Negan want to line his hands up like the bruises were a how-to guide and fuck Rick all over again, this time with the added painful twinge of fingers pressing into the sore spots.

“I told you to stay, Rick,” Negan hissed dangerously. “You’re being a disobedient little shit right now, you know that? And that doesn’t fucking fly with me, baby. No fucking way.”

Negan palmed Rick’s ass roughly before sliding the hand down his thigh and hooking his knee, lifting it up until it was resting on the table. He leaned back to admire Rick for a moment, drinking in the way Rick was wide open for him, legs spread and trembling, ready for whatever Negan had for him. And _boy_ , did he have something for him. Negan shoved his pants down his legs and stepped out of them, kicking them under the table and out of the way.

“What do you want, Rick? Tell me, and maybe I’ll be real fucking nice and give it to you.”

He expected Rick to stay silent, to keep testing the limits, see how far he could push Negan before he was punished again. What he didn’t expect was Rick reaching back with one hand, pulling himself even more open for Negan’s hungry eyes.

“Want your cock inside me.”

Negan was behind him in an instant, cock in hand, teasing Rick with the tip. “Look how fucking _shameless_ you are, Rick! Spreading yourself wide open for me like that. I think you fucking forgot something, though.”

Silence. Negan growled, rocking his hips enough to put a little pressure against the tightness, but not to slip inside. “You’ve been really fucking difficult for me today, Rick. I know you know better than this. I guess you don’t want my cock, is that it?” He pulled back, a satisfied smirk forming on his lips when he heard Rick whine into the table at the loss of contact. Negan delivered another sharp slap to Rick’s ass, watching in delight as Rick’s grip on himself tightened at the contact, tugging him wider. “I get it,” Negan said, his voice mocking. “You wanna get on your knees, right? You wanna part those pretty pink lips and stick out your tongue and let me fuck your mouth until I’m coming all over your fucking face, is that it? You want me to use you, leave you high and dry with a pitched tent and your hand?”

“N-no,” Rick whined, shifting his hips against the wood of the table. There were red marks burning bright across Rick’s ass from Negan’s hands, and it made Negan want to lean down and sink his teeth into the taught flesh, hear all the delicious sounds it would draw out of Rick. He resisted the urge, keeping himself upright. He knew Rick would enjoy that a little too much.

“Really? Because that’s what I’m hearing right now, Rick. You can’t even get manage one little word to get my cock inside you, so you must not want it that badly.”

“Please.”

Negan's mouth twisted up at the edges, his smirk predatory. “Nope. Not good enough, Rick. You’re gonna have to do better than that now.”

“Negan, please. I want you to fuck me.”

Rick's voice was just on the edge of needy, and Negan sidled up behind him again, cock teasing him once more. “Keep going. I want to hear how much you need it.”

“I need it. I need it so bad, please. I need you inside me.”

And then Negan was sliding inside, quick and deep, and Rick was letting out a throaty, satisfied noise that was only slightly muffled by him burying his face in his arms. Negan held Rick’s leg on the table as he fucked him with hard, smooth strokes, loving the way Rick’s body rolled back to meet his thrusts.

“See, Rick? That wasn’t so fucking hard, was it?”

Rick made an irritated sound that was cut off by Negan shoving into him harder.

“No more fucking lip out of you, Rick. Just let me fuck you,” Negan grunted, his head dropping down to rest against Rick’s sweaty back. “You look so fucking good bent over for me, you know that? So fucking gorgeous. And those pretty noises you make when you’re trying not to scream…”

Said noises were getting louder now as Rick was pushed closer to his breaking point. He was squirming against the table, his breaths shuddering and moans loud and stuttered in time with Negan’s thrusts into his body. Negan saw one of his hands dipping below the surface of the table and he shot forward, pinning it against the wood. Rick made a noise somewhere between a whimper and a groan.

“Negan, _please_ , c’mon, I’m so close-”

Negan tsked _,_ shaking his head. “Rick, baby, you don’t need that. You know I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Touch me, then!” Rick snapped.

Negan shoved Rick’s leg up further and pounded into him with renewed fervor, determined to make it so that speaking was no longer an option for the man beneath him. Rick’s back arched, body wound up tight, and then Negan felt him come undone, gasping and groaning as Negan fucked him through his orgasm. Negan followed suit moments later, spilling into Rick’s spent body before pulling out and admiring his handiwork. He gave Rick’s ass one last slap, making the smaller man jerk in surprise, and then kissed a sweet line up Rick’s spine. Rick turned into Negan and let himself be pulled him into Negan’s arms, nuzzling into his neck.

“See, Rick? I told you I’d take care of you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I need to go write some fluff now. Jesus.


End file.
